


The Daily Grind: Black Coffee

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Magic, Argentine James, Autistic Peter, Cafe AU, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Irish Remus, Jewish Remus, M/M, Modern Maruaders, Pining, Slow Burn, Trans Lily, Undercover Boss AU, agender Dorcas, artist Sirius, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Orion Black orders his son Sirius to go undercover at one of his cafés, Sirius is not pleased.  All he wants is to head off on a tropical holiday far away from his family.  Unable to say no, Sirius is forced, for the first time in his life, to work.  Flailing, he's certain it's all going to come crashing down until he realises his co-workers are more than just co-workers.  They're family.  But how will they react when they learn the truth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Daily Grind: Black Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is filling prompts for an Undercover Boss AU for a-mi-cancion-le-falta-el-alma, Latin James for deducing-nerds, and Irish Remus for anon. The story is a little different from the prompt--instead of a corporate business it's a café, but hopefully the theme is still there.
> 
> I will be in Normandy and Israel from Thursday to Wednesday, so I'll be off tumblr for a while (limited internet access) so anything unfinished will be sorted when I get back.
> 
> Also a big thank you to callidoraverat for the Argentine slang Spanish translations/help. x

“This is by and large the fucking…”

“Language, Sirius,” came the mild chastisement.

“…stupidest thing you have ever asked me to do.”

Dark brown eyes met defiant grey, and Orion reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know, millions of people who watch that show…”

“You’re not even on the show,” Sirius replied, rolling his eyes to the side where his brother was sat in a chair, leg up over the arm, a glass of scotch pinched between his fingers. “You’re mimicking the show. These people go on these programmes to make money, or…whatever.”

“Yes, but it inspired a brilliant idea,” Orion insisted. “And there’s no one else who can pull this off.”

“Rosier,” Sirius grumbled.

“Rosier is busy, and they’ve seen him before. It’s really only the café in Hampstead I’m even worried about, Sirius.”

“Because you never go down there,” Regulus said quietly.

“And the pair of you do very little to earn your keep,” Orion pointed out.

Sirius sat up, offended and outraged. “That’s Rosier talking. He’s always whispering rubbish into your ear, trying to get you to name him successor…”

“And I’ve considered it,” Orion said, though his two sons could spot the lie. Orion Black would never entrust his empire to anyone outside of the Black family. No matter how they had defied him or—as he constantly accused Sirius of—tried to shame him. “The point of it is, you will do this for me.”

“Or what?” Sirius asked.

“You know what,” Orion threatened, and Sirius did know what. He was accustomed to a certain lifestyle and as much as he liked to claim he understood what it meant to be working-class, he was no fool. He wouldn’t survive it on his tastes.

Sirius let out a frustrated growl. “They’re going to know I’m your son,” Sirius pointed out. 

“Nonsense, you look exactly like your mother, and you’ve never been round the shops or in a single meeting. I’ve already arranged it with the shop manager, Minerva McGonagall. She’ll set you up with a proper shift and you’ll be there for three weeks. Then report back to me.”

“How are you going to explain away that I’m Sirius Black?” he demanded. “Everyone knows this barmy family with their stars and everything…”

“You’ll not go by that name, you know. I’ve called you Ted. Tonks.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “You’re winding me up, aren’t you?”

At this, Regulus laughed heartily into his scotch, and Orion favoured him with a slight glower before turning his attention back to Sirius. “Just do as I say. In three weeks it’ll be over and you can go and have yourself some nice, long sunny holiday in the Bahamas or something.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Sirius muttered. “Out of the country, out of your hair. Not embarrassing you.”

“You could get a proper job and make something of yourself, but you insist on squandering your life away until I die. I honestly am terrified to see what becomes of my company after I die.”

“Well you’ll be dead, won’t you?” Sirius pointed out. “So it won’t matter how many LGBTQ+ charities I donate your fortune to, will it.”

“ _Sirius_ , I am trying to have a proper, adult conversation with you. One that doesn’t constantly lead to your…depraved habits.”

“Being a flaming queer is not a habit,” Sirius said pointedly. “And why don’t you ever bother Reg about it? He likes it up the arse just as much as I do.”

Orion turned a faint shade of pink. “Tomorrow. You will report to the café, under the name Ted Tonks…”

“Andi’s going to kill you if she ever finds this out,” Sirius muttered.

“…and you will report to me once a week. You will find out if there is anything untoward happening. If this works out, I may very well send your brother into another shop of mine.”

At that, Regulus choked a bit, and Sirius smirked.

“Don’t disappoint me,” Orion warned. “You will not enjoy the consequences.”

*** 

“Bloody fucking mad old bugger,” Sirius swore as he stomped down the pavement in black trousers and a polo shirt. A polo shirt? What the fuck was he? Some American Frat douche with a popped collar? Christ, this was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. His father was well and truly going round the twist. He sees a single fucking programme about bosses going undercover at their jobs and Sirius is now in some sort of common disguise and expected to what? Make coffee? For people?

Trying to temper his anger, he tried to envision the Bahama beaches—which he would absolutely be escaping to the moment this was over. He’d make Regulus come along and fetch him drinks and food and attractive men he could have it off with. Punishment for the spoilt brat getting to sit this one out.

Why was it always him? Why did he have all the luck? Reggie was a far better son than he’d ever claimed—or tried—to be.

The café came into view.

The Daily Grind: Black Coffee

The sign was intricate, hand-carved like all the cafés round the city. The storefront was in a decent location, close to King’s meaning they had a steady stream of University students. From what Sirius learnt the night before, an older woman, Minerva McGonagall managed the location, and there were a total of six employees who managed the shop. Most of them were students—what Sirius ought to be according to his father—and that’s what he was posing as.

An art student. The only thing Sirius had ever been properly interested in, though he’d treated it like a hobby, but he was decent. He could have done something with it. And it wasn’t like Sirius wanted to treat himself like this, to be seen as a good for nothing trust-fund kid. But to make something of his life would be to concede to his parents.

His now-dead mother, his work-a-holic, bigoted father who at one point had thrown Sirius out for his preferences. They had wanted Sirius to follow in his father’s footsteps, and Sirius wanted to be nothing like them.

Now his father was reaching an age he’d either retire or die, and the business would be left to Sirius. To do what with? Part of him wanted to run it into the ground, watch it burn, piss on the ashes to sing both parents to their eternal rest.

And part of him wanted to take it, and run it his own way. To use the business to protect him and his brother from the demons of their past.

He had never been one who could make up his mind, and he was the most spoilt person he knew.

With a sigh, Sirius adjusted his collar, reached back to make sure his hair was tied back properly in the bun, then he reached for the door handle and stepped in. 

Funny thing was, for all that his family had built this coffee empire, Sirius hated it. Hated the smell and flavour. He was black tea only, and he didn’t understand these disgusting, too-sweet, over-milked latte drinks that the world had become obsessed with.

He grimaced as he stepped in, then put on a neutral expression as he approached the counter. There was a man there—taller than Sirius, with wild black curls that looked like they were attempting to grow in every possible direction, rectangle-framed glasses, and dark olive skin. 

“Can I help you?” he asked with a sunny grin.

Sirius raised a brow. “Er. I’m starting work today. I’m Si…er…Ted. Tonks.” He sighed, hoping that Andi and Ted would not murder him where he slept if they learnt that Orion was having him use the name of the man responsible for Andi being disinherited. 

The man behind the counter brightened even more, if that was possible. “Right, excellent. Minnie said you’d be by today. She’s poorly, so I’ll be getting you sorted. I’m James, by the way. Daytime manager.” He extended his hand, oval nails, long slender fingers with two rings over his first and middle. 

Sirius sighed, then took the hand and tried not to grimace as their palms touched. He’d never been overly fond of touching strangers, really. “Pleased to meet you. So er…how shall I get started?”

James beckoned him round the corner, and Sirius felt his feet stutter because the moment he stepped over that threshold and became an employee, there was no turning back. It was only three weeks, but it could very well be hell.

“Let me go and grab Moony to watch the front, then we can sit in the office and go over the basics. Sound alright?”

The more he spoke, the more Sirius heard the hint of an accent, though he couldn’t place it. He found he didn’t much care either way, though. These people were not really his colleagues, and they would not be his friends. They were his subjects he would be studying, and they were his ticket to a nice, long, beachy holiday.

Also, he had to wonder what the fuck a Moony was, but his question was almost immediately answered when a shorter man with dark-tawny curls in a black shirt, apron nearly covered in flour, and a dimpled smile walked out. Sirius was struck by the almost awkward beauty of him, which didn’t happen often. He was chubby, a sunflower tattoo on the side of his neck going down toward his shoulder, a large nose, bright amber-brown eyes, and an overbite which made Sirius suddenly want to kiss him.

Which was weird.

Sirius’ tastes had always been different than his mates, of course. He didn’t enjoy the over-muscled, plastic-smile of the too-posh people. He liked character, _life_ in his partners. And it took quite a lot to get Sirius actually interested in people.

Well he liked this Moony.

“What’s up?” Moony asked, an Irish lilt to his accent. It was light, like he’d been in England quite a while, but it was noticeable. 

“This is Ted,” James said, waving his hand at Sirius. “He’s starting his first day today.”

Moony raised an eyebrow as he took off the filthy apron and shoved it into a cloth laundry bin. “Nice to meet you, Ted. You look positively terrified.”

Sirius blinked. “Do I?”

“Yes, you do,” Moony said with a laugh. “Anyway, I’m Remus.”

No less weird than Moony, really—though Sirius wasn’t one to talk—but more fitting. “Okay,” he finally said.

Remus blinked at him, then looked at James and laughed. “This ought to be fun. Has he met Lils or Marlene yet?”

James shook his head. “They’re out back having a smoke break. And he can get acquainted later. Mind the front, will you?”

Remus shrugged, then grabbed another apron and slung it round his neck. “As you like it, mate.”

James rolled his eyes, then beckoned Sirius down a small corridor. The place didn’t have the most pleasant smell, like a mixture of cooking things and cleaning supplies and…something else. “We have the dish-pit back here, and Pete does that. He’s incredibly particular about the way it’s run, so just take your time getting to know his rules, and don’t try to change anything up.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. “Is he some sort of boss?”

“No,” James said with a quirk of his lips. “He’s Autistic, and he’s fucking brilliant, but very specific. Also if you need to talk to him and you see him stimming, just let him carry on with it. Usually doesn’t last long, but if you interrupt him, it puts him off.”

Sirius blinked, then shrugged. “Alright.” He had no issues with accommodations. He’d never met an Autistic person before but he also wasn’t a hermit. He understood how the world worked.

“Anyway, this is the office. Minnie’s been poorly lately, so I’ve been handling things, but we share the office. I work the front a lot, but after my shift I come in later to handle the books so if you need anything, this is where I’ll be.”

Sirius walked in, and grimaced. The place was a right mess, papers just about everywhere, notes tacked up on a cork-board with push-pins in bright colours marked up with felt-tip pen. There were calendars and in the corner on a small table covered by a white cloth, was a small statue of a woman. Behind her were several golden posts, and she was wearing a huge, blue-green and gold gown. Sat in front was a small candle in a red, glass candleholder, which was unlit.

When James caught him looking, he laughed. “Nuestra Señora de Luján,” he said, and it was right then Sirius could place the accent. “My abuelita gave it to my mamá who of course insisted I put it up here as soon as I got the job. She gets very concerned about the welfare of Luján.” When Sirius raised another brow, James shrugged. “My mother’s family’s from Argentina. My parents met when my dad was on holiday and they lived in Luján until my abuelita died. I was seven, and then they settled on London.”

Sirius sank into a chair as James took the one in front of the computer. “Your dad’s from here?”

“Kashmir, actually,” he said, then clarified, “India.”

“I’ve been there,” Sirius replied loftily.

James’ smile didn’t falter. “It’s great, isn’t it?” He clapped his hands together as he leant back in the chair. “Anyway, so…I’m sure Minnie went over all the basics with you, and your CV.”

Sirius blinked, realising he had no CV to speak of as he’d never held a job in his life. “Right. Yes.”

“Are you a student?”

After a beat, “I’m an artist. Just…doesn’t totally pay the bills.” Whilst on some level true, James didn’t need to know Sirius paid zero bills.

“Oh that’s brilliant! You know, we try to feature local artists when we can. We’ve hired out the shop for different showings and demonstrations. We have music as well, sometimes. Moony does that every now and again.”

Sirius blinked. “Does what?”

“Ukulele,” James said with a laugh. “Fucking brilliant at it. Decent singer as well. We do that Sunday evenings.”

“Alright,” Sirius said, not totally sure why James was sharing all this with him, but he supposed it was decent information for his father. Though, he thought airily, he wasn’t entirely sure his father would approve of art showings and music nights as he’d never been one for any type of art.

“So if you ever want to do something for yourself like that, you know? Just let me know. We’ll set something up.”

Sirius looked at him. “You mean like show my art?”

James chuckled. “Yeah mate, or if you want to give an art demo or something. We’re flexible. Plus it brings in customers and if we ever have any charity events.” James then stopped and his cheeks darkened. “Best not actually say that to anyone. It’s a bit against the corporate rules to host things for charity. And we’ve been trying to sort of overcome the Grind’s reputation.”

“Which is?” Sirius pressed.

“Well being a bit…” James laughed and ruffled the back of his hair shrugging. “You know. I mean, surely you know about Orion Black.”

Sirius tried very hard not to cough. “Er. Not really.”

“He’s just…a bit of a…well. Let’s just say he’s not entirely friendly about people who aren’t cis, straight, and white.”

Sirius had to bite the inside of his cheek, only because he knew how true it was. Orion tolerated Sirius’ Thai heritage only because his mum had given it up almost entirely and embraced the purist English way of life. Sirius had learnt only through hanging round his cousin Andi, then visiting distant cousins when he and Reg went on an extended holiday across Asia.

“Right well,” Sirius said, and shrugged. “No worries there from me, mate.” And he wasn’t sure if he meant it. Far be it from him to betray his own community by telling his father what this Potter was up to. “He ever come round? That Orion bloke?”

“He threatens it every so often if he doesn’t like our numbers. It’s usually a motivator enough to get us upselling. We’ve got a couple of trans people working here—Lily is. She’s also dating Marlene. And Dori’s agender and they’re aromantic but they live with Pete and they have a little squish thing going on. Dunno if anyone’s straight.” James stopped and laughed. “Unless you are, but no judgments, of course.”

Sirius very nearly laughed himself at the thought. He’d never been in a group of people where being judged for being straight would be an issue. “Ah no worries, I’m queer as they come.” He shrugged. “No boyfriend or anything, though.”

James smiled. “None for me either. Or girlfriend. But we’re like a family, and so long as you respect everyone, we’ll get on fine.”

Sirius nodded, trying not to be curt because he wasn’t here trying to be family. And he was feeling this funny, little niggling sensation in the back of his head that took him a moment to realise what it was. He liked this. He _liked_ James and he didn’t want their little family to stop.

He was actually looking forward to seeing more.

Fuck.

“So is that…it?” Sirius asked.

James shrugged. “Reckon so. We’ll start you off easy. Just working the till, until you can get the handle on the drinks. Recipes are pretty straightforward, but not standard. All the coffee is imported and it has to be made a certain way. Also…can you bake?”

Sirius almost laughed at that as well. “Ah, no, sorry mate. I’m pants in the kitchen.”

James shrugged. “Just as well. Only Moony’s the only one who really is any good at it—fucking brilliant, you know?”

“Is everything fucking brilliant to you?” Sirius asked, then almost clapped a hand over his mouth. What the fuck was wrong with him?

James just laughed again. “Reckon it is. Most of the time. But anyway, he’s probably hoping to get some relief. Maybe he can try you out on a few things. See how you do?”

Sirius shrugged. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“He won’t,” James said. “He tried with me and it was a bloody disaster. Anyway,” James clapped his hands together again, “let’s go get you an apron…”

Sirius grimaced at this.

“…and acquaint you with the front. Lils and Marlene ought to be back from their break, and you can meet them. Do not let Marlene intimidate you. There is no initiation, there is no pranking the new employees. She just likes to…be…well herself.”

“Which is fucking brilliant?” Sirius offered.

James clapped him on the shoulder. “Exactly. A fucking brilliant pain in my arse.”

*** 

As it was, his first day hadn’t gone too terribly. Lily and Marlene were rather funny, and once they realised he’d been warned about piss-taking, they let off and ended up being rather helpful in explaining the ins and outs of the way the café worked. Remus disappeared back into the kitchen the moment James was out, so Sirius—to his extreme disappointment—didn’t get to see much of him.

James had a bad habit of breaking into long strings of Spanish when he was trying to explain things to Sirius, which meant the training took twice as long, but Sirius grinned and bore it. Frankly he rather liked listening to the rapid, curving tongue as James got overly excited about things.

“You get used to it,” Lily said with a grin, leaning into Sirius’ shoulder a bit. He learnt quickly she was rather a touchy-feely sort of person which he initially thought might bother him, but he adapted quickly. “You’ll pick up loads of Spanish and probably know half the prayers to saints by the time you’re done here.”

Sirius wanted to retort that he doubted he’d be able to pick much up in a handful of weeks, but they weren’t supposed to know any of that. He felt like a spy, and the worst sort, though presently he had no real intention of selling them out to his father.

“Anyway,” James said as Sirius finished up the last of his shift, “that’s about it. Tomorrow you can start on the barista line with Lils.”

“Don’t worry, little lamb, I’ll treat you right,” Lily said, cuffing him lightly on the chin.

Sirius felt himself blushing and looking away, a small smile on his face. Damn it, he was not supposed to be enjoying this. He could support them and not turn them in, but also he should not be getting attached. He wondered briefly what his life might have been like if he’d had mates like this. Instead of his uptight wanker, so-called friends who were only good for a quick toss-off in the locker rooms after cricket.

The most he had now was his brother who, although he had decided to become open about his sexuality, was still subjected to family scrutiny. So they went on their holidays and lived it up, and returned home to a constant barrage of being told what absolute disappointments they were.

Sirius tried not to let that get him down as he made his way home, cursing he couldn’t phone a car to pick him up. Absolutely refusing public transport, and wishing he’d remembered to have his bike brought back from his little jaunt in Glasgow, he made the walk in forty minutes.

Just as he was rounding the corner, he saw his brother waiting near the stoop, arms folded casually, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Fuck off,” Sirius said, brushing past him and nodded at the doorman as they strolled into the lobby. He jabbed the lift button and proceeded to ignore Regulus until the doors closed.

“Really, was it awful?”

“I smell of coffee and the employees are daft,” Sirius said, lying through his teeth about the latter half. He didn’t want his brother taking the piss, or assuming that on some level, Sirius Black might actually enjoy some form of manual labour.

The doors pinged open, and Sirius nearly kicked his door open, immediately going into his bedroom to change. He contemplated a shower—he really did smell of coffee and he didn’t love it, but it seemed like too much effort when he could lay down on his overly-comfortable sofa and make his brother order in for pizza.

He wriggled into a silky pair of pyjama bottoms and a shirt, then came out, feet bare and aching, to find Reg already placing an order. With a half grin, he went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple beers, handing one off to Reg as he flopped onto the cushions.

“Really, it was that bad?” Regulus demanded after taking a sip. “I worked in a café for six months and it wasn’t so bad.”

Sirius cracked one eye open, forgetting Regulus’ moment of rebellion at eighteen when he’d taken a working-class job in hopes it would send their mother finally hurtling into the grave. It hadn’t worked, of course, and she’d lived another three years. 

“Yes well…it’s less the work and more doing dad this favour,” Sirius admitted. He rolled onto his back, letting his hand hang over the side, the beer bottle pinched between his fingers. “Dunno why he couldn’t just let you do it.”

“Because I never do anything right,” Regulus said through a white, even grin.

Sirius rolled his eyes, then flung an arm up above his head. “You fuck up on purpose so I get stuck with the grunt work.”

“Yes, your life is so hard,” Regulus drawled. “Never having to earn money, having everything paid for you, getting to holiday whenever you feel like it. How dare he make you work four whole weeks.”

Sirius hated that although Reg was taking the piss, it made something in his gut squirm uncomfortably. Because it was sort of true, wasn’t it? Sirius hadn’t earnt a single thing he had. And part of him took it as recompense for being born into such a fucking rubbish family, but a small part of him told him he ought to at least try to appreciate it.

Those at the café, they not only dealt with the oppression of society for being who they were, but they struggled. They had to go to school, and work, and it was their lives every day. He wondered how many of them ever had to wonder where their next meal was coming from, or choose between having to pay a bill or buy a new pair of shoes.

Licking his lips, Sirius turned onto his side and stared at his brother. “I liked them.”

“Reckoned you would. I actually made decent friends when I was working,” Regulus said with a shrug as he kicked one foot up on the low table. “Mum got me sacked.”

Sirius remembered. He remembered the abject fury when his mother had used what strings she had to pull to have Regulus’ job terminated, and his flat let out to someone else. His accounts had been frozen, and without money or anywhere to go, and realising his mother would go to the most extreme ends to get what she wanted, he’d returned home. Head bowed, and full of a righteous anger Sirius didn’t think his younger brother had been capable of.

It had been the end of the beginning, he realised. And it was still building. Regulus at least had started Uni, working toward a degree in psychiatry and planned to do everything he could to get out from under his parents’ heel.

Sirius wished he had that drive. 

Desperately.

Sirius decided he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and reached over to flick on the telly. Luckily his brother knew when he was being petulant, and when he needed to really work things out. The silence between them was comfortable, even after the pizza arrived, and eventually Sirius got sleepy.

“You staying?”

Regulus shrugged. “Reckon so.” He stood up and headed off to Sirius’ guest bedroom which had become Regulus’ over time. “I have to get to an early lecture. You want me to wake you?”

“I’ll set an alarm,” Sirius said. He then reached over, in a strange, unfamiliar gesture between the siblings, and squeezed Regulus’ shoulder. His brother looked down at Sirius’ hand, then looked up and let out the tiniest laugh, patting Sirius on the cheek.

“You’re going to be just fine. You really are.”

As much as Sirius knew he should punch his brother for those patronising words, he ended up feeling nothing but comfort, and let them carry him off to sleep.

*** 

Sirius fully expected to get some decent time with Remus the following day, but he was mistaken. Remus, being the only baker, was swamped with weekend orders coming up. “It’s Pesach,” James explained as Remus was seen stood at the table rolling out some sort of dough. “Remus runs the kitchen kosher for the high holy days, so we get flooded with orders. He does a lot of unleavened pastries for Pesach. I think we got about seventy orders left.”

Sirius knew only about half those words, but he reckoned it had something to do with some religious holiday. “Christ.”

James barked a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. “Something like that. Anyway, just pay him no mind. We’re well stocked here and on busy days, if we run out of something, we just tell them sorry and to come back tomorrow. Most of the customers are understanding.”

Sirius nodded, then was sent off with Lily to mind the espresso machine. The mechanics of it seemed simple enough, and he was fairly good at remembering routine. 

“Just make sure it’s packed down tight enough,” Lily said, showing him how. “You want the espresso to have the nice caramel foam. It’ll taste wrong if you don’t. And to get a really hard foam, just use the frozen steaming pitchers.” She reached over to a small freezer, and extracted one, then proceeded to show him how to create a decent cappuccino foam.

It all seemed well enough until Sirius gave it a try, and over-boiled the milk, sending it spraying everywhere. Lily thought it was well hilarious until he did it a second time, then a third. By the fourth she was frustrated, they’d wasted a tonne of product, and she was giving him _a look_.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” Sirius said. 

“Like…have you ever even made a pot of coffee?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he shook his head. “No, actually.”

“Why the fuck did Minnie hire you?”

Sirius felt his face go red. “I’m a fast learner.”

“Well I’ve yet to see it,” Lily accused. She turned to James. “Oy! What the fuck, Potter?”

James, who was busy restocking one of the pastry counters, turned. “What?”

“This one here has never even touched a coffee pot before. He’s just blown up four pitchers of steamed milk, and doesn’t have a lick of understanding how to get it right. Why was he hired?”

Sirius had never been so publicly humiliated before, and without thinking, he turned and rushed off. He wasn’t looking where he was going, and ended up in the baking room, face-to-face with a slightly startled Remus.

“Mate?” Remus asked

Sirius scrubbed his face, angry at the sudden tears in his eyes. “Sorry. Sorry I…”

“Heard her shouting,” Remus said as he went back to adding eggs to whatever was in a massive mixing bowl. “She does that a lot. Don’t pay her any mind.”

“Hard not to when she’s screaming about me being absolutely worthless.”

Remus gave him a careful smile. “Takes some getting used to.” He nodded toward a stool near the baking table, and Sirius sank into it.

“She’s not wrong, you know,” Sirius muttered after a minute. “I’m fucking useless. I’ve never done this sort of work before and…honestly it’ll probably just drag everyone down.”

“See that tube right there?” Remus said, nodding to what looked like a piping bag. Sirius nodded curiously. “In the fridge right there is a tray of biscuits. Pull those out, and fill the depression in the middle with dollops of that jam.”

Sirius moved almost mechanically, pulling out the chilled tray of biscuits. They looked flaky and white, like nothing he’d seen before, but he got to work quickly. After a couple mishaps, he was able to get the technique down, so he could fill the biscuits without the jam overflowing.

“See. Not useless,” Remus said with a wink, making Sirius flush. “Lily can be overwhelming. She means well, she really does. She just sort of…expects more than people have to give sometimes.”

Sirius said nothing as he finished off the tray, then got the second. The work was repetitive, and soothing in a way, and he didn’t realise James had come in until he looked up and saw him watching Sirius, arms crossed over his chest, a smile on his face.

“Alright, Teddy?”

Sirius blinked, then remembered he was going by the pseudonym. “Yeah. Look, I’m really sorry…”

“Esta bien,” James said with a wave of his hand. “Lily she…she’s just... She gets a little…” James made a funny motion with his hand. “She’ll apologise in a while.”

Sirius swallowed thickly. “Do I really have to go back out there?”

James gave Remus a careful look. “Are you alright with company today?”

Remus nodded. “So long as he follows directions, we’ll be perfectly fine.”

James nodded, then looked back at Sirius. “You have to learn it eventually, but I’ll put you with me later on. Lily is wonderful, but doesn’t have a lot of patience.”

Sirius nodded, still feeling rather humiliated, angry, and confused. His first reaction would have been to ring up his father and have her sacked, but the protective nature of the employees here—and the fact that no one was blaming him, curbed his desire. Instead he went back to filling the biscuits with jam, then helped Remus with a few other items on the list.

By the end of three hours he’d learnt how to knead bread, prepare several trays of croissants and pains au chocolate for baking, and had memorised half a scone recipe.

“It’s easy,” Remus said, swiping his hands on a damp flannel. “At least, once you understand that baking is a science. You can’t piss around with it, and James and the others, they want to be creative and it all comes out complete crap. But if you follow where the recipe wants you to go, let it carry you…” Remus trailed off.

Sirius understood, on a fundamental level as an artist, he understood. He’d been carried away with painting before, letting the canvas and colours take him instead of the other way round, and baking wasn’t the same, but he still understood where Remus was going with it.

“I need a fag,” Remus said after he’d shucked his floury apron. “Want to come along? We’ve got twenty until those loaves are done.”

Sirius shrugged, and was pleased to go through the back kitchen instead of out in the front where Lily, James, and Marlene were working. They came round to the dish pit, as James had called it, and it was then Sirius caught a glimpse of who had to be Peter. He was shorter, clipped blonde hair, round cheeks, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. He was sat at a table with a laptop in front of him, his fingers clacking away furiously.

“Alright, Wormy?” Remus asked as Sirius followed him toward the back door.

Peter turned his head, gave Sirius a curious look, then shrugged at Remus. “The server’s down. I have to patch it. I’ve gotten four phone calls. The dishes have to wait.” He sounded annoyed, stressed, but his voice was even.

“No worries, mate,” Remus said. “Have you met Ted?”

“No,” Peter said, going back to the laptop. “The server’s down. I have to patch it.”

Remus smiled and beckoned Sirius out the door. “He’s a software designer,” he explained as he hopped up on a huge wooden palette and gave it a pat. As Sirius climbed up, Remus offered him a smoke, but he shook his head. With a shrug, Remus lit up his own and took a long drag before speaking again. “He finished his degree last year and got picked up by Hog’s Head productions. They do video games, shit like that.”

“I’ve heard of them,” Sirius said.

“He started out as tech, but moved into a dev position, and now he’s the head of the department.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “And he works here?”

“Peter would sooner carve out his kidneys than turn his kitchen over to someone else,” Remus said with a shrug. “He doesn’t think anyone else can do it right. So he works both jobs from here.”

Sirius let out a low whistle. “Fucking impressive.”

“Yeah, he is. Has a way of making everyone feel feckin’ inadequate just by being himself.” Remus grinned round his cigarette clenched between his teeth as he reached up and ran his fingers through his curls. “So, really how’s it going here? Second day and all that, and already got yer arse ripped in half by Lily.”

Sirius felt his cheeks pink. “Wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.”

“First job like this?”

Sirius swallowed, not sure how much truth he should give, but he found himself unable to lie to Remus. “First job er…ever?”

Remus blinked at him, then threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck me, mate. Really?”

Sirius shrugged. “I didn’t…need one before. I know that sounds shitty. But I didn’t.”

“And now?”

“Now I don’t have much choice,” Sirius offered, and hoped that would be enough.

Remus didn’t seem interested in prying. “Well it gets easier, it really does. Eventually it all just becomes second nature, you know. You can make espresso in your sleep, bake a perfect loaf of bread feckin’ arse-faced.”

Sirius clenched his jaw so he wouldn’t confess that he’d never get that far, because in four weeks he’d be gone and he’d never see these people again. He told himself it was just as well. They wouldn’t accept him if they knew who he was, no matter how much his views differed from his father’s.

“So Remus,” he said, changing the subject, “what do you do?”

“You mean when I’m not elbow-deep in bread dough?” Remus asked with a laugh. Sirius quirked a smile and nodded. “James tell you about the open mic night?”

“Sundays,” Sirius repeated.

Remus nodded. “I do that. Always wanted to be a musician, but not motivated enough to make anything real out of it. And I’m fairly mediocre.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Sirius said quickly.

“Nah mate, it is. Not a lick of marketable talent in these fingers,” he waggled his right hand like a spider. “I’m finishing up Uni, though. Only one’s not in right now is Marlene. James thinks I ought to go into baking, open my own shop.”

“Would you want to?” Sirius asked, biting down on his thumbnail as he looked at Remus.

“Dunno. Never really had the funds, so it was never really something I considered. Jamie comes from money, family’s feckin’ loaded. But he was determined not to let it spoil him so he took off after we finished school and got some shit-hole flat with Petey and got this job. Going to school on his loans. Barmy fucker.”

Sirius snorted. “Really?”

“Really. His mam and da come visit quite a lot, try and throw quid at him but he won’t take it. He’s happier for it, though.”

Sirius felt something uncomfortable squirming in his gut. Jealousy. Jealousy that he’d never had the bollocks to do something like that. Hell even Reg had…

Sirius’ thoughts were interrupted when James’ head poked round the door. “Er Ted? You’ve got a visitor.”

Sirius felt his face go cold. Had his father sent someone to check up on his progress? If the person wasn’t careful, Sirius’ cover would be blown long before he could get anything done. Licking his lips, he gave Remus an apologetic smile and then hurried off after James.

They made their way through the kitchen, and out into the front, and Sirius came to a skidding halt. Stood at the counter wearing a small smirk, was Regulus. Sirius, for half a second, considered pretending like he didn’t know him at all. But they looked far too much alike—could have been twins really—and Sirius let out a resigned sigh.

“Ted,” Regulus said with a small smile.

“Reggie,” Sirius fired back, knowing how much his brother hated that nickname. He took pleasure out of the small scowl appearing on his brother’s face. “What are you doing here? I thought you had lectures today.”

“I do,” he said, and leant on the counter, his eyes flickering back toward James who was watching with a small grin. Reg’s smile turned slightly lecherous for a second, and Sirius gave a sharp shake of his head, making his brother sigh. “I was peckish, thought I’d stop off and see how your second day is going.”

“Not bad,” Sirius said. “So you can go now.”

“You could offer him your family discount,” James piped up, taking a step up next to Sirius. “I’m the manager on duty. You’re Ted’s brother?”

“Am I that obvious?” Regulus asked with a softer smirk. He extended his hand, and Sirius noticed that the handshake between the two lingered. He fought back a groan, and rolled his eyes.

“Yes well, I’m better looking. Now that we have that cleared up, what do you want?” Sirius barked.

“Touchy,” Regulus said, and winked at James who chuckled. “I think just a latte and a scone would be fine. Vanilla, maybe? Extra sweet.”

Sirius grimaced, but went to the till and put the order in the way James had showed him the day before. When the order receipt printed at the counter, Lily’s head poked in and she offered Sirius a sheepish smile before coming out and grabbing it. Turning, she reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“I’m really sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to just…lose it like that.”

Sirius shook his head, profoundly aware his brother was listening, but he gave her a careful smile. “It’s no worries, really. I learnt how to do some shit in the kitchen and Remus said I was better than you lot so…” He shrugged and Lily giggled. 

“Fair enough.” It was then she saw Regulus, and her eyes widened. “Oh my god, there’s two of you?”

“I’m the better one,” Regulus said. “What are you sorry for? He probably deserved it, whatever it was.”

“I shouted at him for being incompetent at making espresso,” Lily explained as she got to work on Regulus’ latte.

Regulus snickered, and Sirius shooed him off. “Go sit down. I’ll bring it over.”

Reg huffed, but wandered off to a table where he took out one of his books and made a show of reading—though Sirius knew he was watching. He half wondered if their dad had sent him in to see how things were going, to see if Sirius was behaving and doing as he was asked.

Most of him knew Regulus wouldn’t bother doing anything their dad requested, and Sirius felt a bit better.

“So, brother?” James asked, waggling his brows.

“Don’t,” Sirius warned. “Trust me, he’s a disaster.”

“Like you?” Lily asked, pouring steamed milk.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Actually I’m probably worse, but you don’t want to get involved with him.” Mostly he meant it to save his own arse. Regulus had nothing to lose right now if he blew Sirius’ cover. Sirius, on the other hand, knew his father would come up with something far more awful if this didn’t go to plan. Like returning in a suit and sacking the entire staff.

Sirius felt sick at the thought.

James seemed to let it go, though, and wandered into the back room as Sirius carried the scone and latte over to Regulus’ table.

“Here. Though you hate this shite as much as I do,” Sirius said in a low tone.

Reg gave him a sharp grin. “I really did just want to see how you were getting on. Was kind of hoping you were going to make the latte.”

“Well as you heard, I was unceremoniously shouted at and thrown into the kitchen to help with baking. Which was much better.”

Reg put his spoon in the latte and stirred it. “Learning anything useful? Is dear daddy going to be very pleased with your work.”

Sirius clenched his jaw. “Please don’t. I don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to fuck with these people’s lives.” He leant his arm on the back of the free chair. “They’re nice.”

An uncharacteristic kindness flashed through Regulus’ eyes and he sighed. “Just get through it. Tell our wonderful father that they’re good, decent, conservative Christians or something, and he’ll let it all go.”

Sirius licked his lips, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah I know. Just…be careful, okay? Don’t fuck this up for me.”

Regulus gave him a withering glower. “Why would I do that? Do you think I like the way our father does things?” he asked in a very low tone. “Just…go back to work, Sirius. Okay?”

Swallowing, Sirius turned on his heel and marched back to the counter where Lily stood, watching him with a quirked brow.

“Sibling rivalry?” she asked.

Sirius glanced back at Reg who was gathering his things, leaving the latte and scone untouched on the table. As he slid out the door, he sighed. “Something like that. Anyway, why don’t you show me how this works again. I swear I’ll pay better attention.”

*** 

By Saturday, Sirius had most of the espresso drinks figured out, though he wasn’t great at it, and James resolved to keep him on other tasks. “It’s not a big deal,” James assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. “We all have our strengths. And Remus likes you in the kitchen which is a big help.”

“Where is he, by the way?” Sirius asked. He was now unable to deny even a little how much he fancied Remus, although he was keeping it well to himself. There was mild flirting whenever they worked together, and Sirius rather enjoyed the heaps of praise levelled on him from Remus for doing things no one else at the café could do, but it never got further than that.

“He doesn’t work Saturdays,” James said, easing a tray of croissants into the pastry window. “He tries to keep the Shabbat when he can. He’s not overly devout but…” James shrugged. “His dad’s a rabbi.”

Sirius’ eyebrows shot up. “An Irish rabbi?”

James snickered. “They’re not totally unheard of, you know. But…yes. Remus is a bit of an anomaly. Either way, he doesn’t do Saturdays. And he’s tomorrow off as well, but he’ll be here for open mic night. You should come in, yeah? It’s fun.”

Sirius reached up to fiddle with his bun, struggling because the last thing he wanted to do was spend more time here. He could not afford to get more attached to these people. It would not end well. He couldn’t think of any scenario they could possibly understand. 

“Maybe,” he finally said when he realised he’d not given James an answer.

At the end of the day, Sirius made his walk home, and just before he reached his flat, his mobile began to chime. Assuming it was Reg, he didn’t bother looking as he answered, moving past the doorman with a slight nod.

“Yes?”

“That is no way to greet your father, telephone call or not,” came Orion’s sneer.

Sirius felt a chill up his spine. “Ah father, sorry. I wasn’t looking at the screen.” He pushed the button on the lift and half-hoped it would cut off the call and he could pretend his phone had died.

“I forgive you. I’m ringing in for an update. You haven’t been in touch this week.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You said once a week. And everything’s standard, I suppose. I don’t exactly have an education on the ins and outs of some café, and since you’ve insisted I do common work for them, I haven’t got much more opportunity than taking payments and making lattes.”

Orion was silent so long, Sirius thought maybe the call had cut off. But as he stepped into the corridor, there was a small sigh. “Work harder.”

“Father, is there something you know that I don’t? Something I should be looking for? If that’s the case, this might make it easier to have a starting point.”

“Hampstead is my lowest profit store, and I want to make sure there’s nothing untoward happening. I’ve checked the books repeatedly, and have had several meetings with Minerva. She insists the area with so many students means they order cheaper items and don’t frequent the café the same as my higher-end areas.”

Sirius let out a sigh as he pushed the door open. He was slightly relieved to find Regulus wasn’t there, and quickly flopped down onto the sofa. “You know that sounds about right,” Sirius muttered.

“I don’t buy it,” Orion snapped. “I’m not much longer for this world and I need to trust you can handle my position when I go. Sirius, do not disappoint me. Am I clear?”

Swallowing, Sirius said, “Yes, father.”

“Good. And keep an eye on that brother of yours. I don’t trust him.”

With that, the line was dead and Sirius let his mobile topple to the floor as he buried his face in the cushion. His father had no idea, no true idea the sort of person Regulus was. And not for the first time he mourned the fact that he and his brother had been born into this family.

*** 

Sunday came round, and Sirius enjoyed his first day off by having a long lie-in, ordering delivery, and resolving not to attend the open mic night. He might have lasted had he not got a text off Remus in the late afternoon.

_Oyy Padfoot—James came up with that name, so you’re one of us now. Are you coming tonight? Everyone’s either working or showing up. See you then?_

Sirius couldn’t stop the barrage of images in his head. Remus’ smile, his dimples, his curls, the way his fingers moved so deftly through his baking creations. He could hear his stupid laugh and that damned accent and all the weird Irish slang Sirius didn’t totally understand.

Fuck.

He was fucked.

**Yeah, I’ll see you there.**

_À bientôt_

Rolling his eyes, Sirius tried his very best not to hear the threats in his father’s tone as he got in the shower and dressed. He spent half an hour plaiting his hair, then added a bit of eyeshadow and threw on some jeans and one of his old Rolling Stones t-shirts. Everything he had on was designer. Everything was probably more than his workmate’s monthly wages, and he felt a weird sense of self-hatred for it.

Mostly because he hadn’t earnt any of it, and he’d never really understood the profound need to work hard until now. Not from experience, but he saw how much passion these people put into their jobs. Jobs a lot of people considered menial. Even his father, who needed these people to run the shop—without them where would he be? And yet he considered them less-than. He considered them expendable. 

Looking for his boots, Sirius found them tucked in his studio, and glanced over at his current half-done painting. He’d started it the month before, but lost inspiration half-way through. So far he had the background done, and a few abstract shapes, but he didn’t know where to go with it. It looked as lost as he felt.

A person without purpose. A painting with no meaning.

With a heavy sigh, he grabbed his leather jacket and headed down the street. The walk was long, but necessary as he cleared his head and by the time he got to the café, he was surprised to see how busy it was. There were people handing round out front, sipping from paper cups, chatting away. There was a queue to the door, and a small sign advertising donations for an LGBTQ+ shelter being set up in the city.

As Sirius slipped inside, he caught James’ eye who waved him over. “Encantado,” he said, leaning over to kiss Sirius’ cheek. “You look nice.”

Sirius flushed, tugging on the end of his plait. “Er. Thanks? I didn’t dress up or anything but…”

“Look, why don’t you go and grab a table, eh? I’m just helping the girls get ahead of this order, then I’ll join you. I have one reserved by the stage there. Mira,” he said, pointing. “So we can cheer loudest for Moony.”

Sirius nodded, then made his way over and saw the reserved sign and four chairs. He slipped into one, his feet tapping on the floor, fingers dancing nervously. He startled when a hand fell on his shoulder, and he looked up and saw Remus there with a grin.

“Alright, Teddy?”

Sirius flushed, wishing just once he could hear his actual name from those lips. “Yeah, you?”

“Always.” Remus slid into the seat, and Sirius took him in. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, nothing unusual. A beanie was tucked over his curls in sort of earthy rainbow tones, and he had a jumper hooked round the inside of his elbow. “Good turnout tonight.”

“Do you ever get nervous?” Sirius asked, looking behind him at the growing crowd.

Remus grinned. “Nah. See, once I’ve accepted what absolute shite I am at singing, nothing the crowd can say bothers me.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “Do they say things about you?”

Remus laughed, reaching over to squeeze his wrist. “No. Everyone here knows me by now. They know they’ll get their feckin teeth knocked in if they try and take the piss. And not just by me. Prongsie’s very protective, you know.”

“I noticed,” Sirius said dryly. He opened his mouth to say something else when another chair was pulled out, and a cup of tea was placed in front of him.

Turning his head slowly, he was met with the soft grin of his brother as Regulus took his own tea, and the seat.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sirius demanded.

“He came by looking for you,” Remus supplied. “I invited him. James seemed keen on it.”

Sirius felt his face go hot and flush. “Reggie…”

“Teddy,” Regulus mocked. “They already know what a complete twat you are, I can’t possibly embarrass you more than you do yourself.”

“Ah that’s my cue. We’re going for drinks after, alright? So don’t fill up on that.” Remus nodded at the tea before winking, then he stood up and wandered backstage.

Sirius turned furious eyes on Regulus. “You cannot pull James, and you cannot hang round with workmates.”

“Why the fuck not?” Reg demanded mildly.

“Because I’ve already been threatened by father twice for not already uncovering why their profits are low.”

“Probably because they’re charging half price on the till as a sale, then putting the other half in charity,” Regulus said.

Sirius’ eyes widened. “What?”

“I watched James do it,” Regulus said with a shrug. “He inputs a discount after the customer’s rung up and paid. It’s legal technically. They can do a sort of Happy Hour special—it’s in the corporate rules. Just most of the cafés don’t bother.”

Sirius licked his lips, not sure what he should do about that. “Charity?”

“I looked it up a few minutes ago. It’s a trans-specific charity, to help trans people get out of abusive homelife situations. Sort of like a shelter, but they’re trying to get off the ground and they can’t get any government funding because it’s so…conservative,” Reg said with a shrug. “You going to rat them out.”

Sirius swallowed. “I…no. No. I’m not.”

Reg gave him a careful look, then nodded. “I’m not going to sell you out if I pull James.”

“You’re going to fall in love with him,” Sirius said miserably. “And he’s going to eventually learn you’re Regulus Black and he’ll hate you just as much as me.”

“Unless you tell him first. Before I have to. Tell him what our shite of a father is making you do.”

Sirius snorted. “Oh that’ll sound brilliant. Hey James, I’m here to spy on you for my shite father because I have no fucking spine and cannot say no for fear of losing my flat and my inheritance. I’ve never actually worked a day in my life and I’m pretty sure I would choose money over friendship.”

“Would you?” Regulus asked after a beat. His gaze strayed to the side of the makeshift stage where Remus was stood, tuning his ukulele.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Sirius questioned himself. He didn’t answer his brother, though. They sat in silence, Sirius blushing a little when Remus glanced over and gave him a wink and a smile.

Eventually James slid into the seat and grinned. “Excellent turn out. We’re getting some decent proceeds for the charity.”

“You know,” Sirius said carefully, speaking with his face turned down toward his teacup. “If Orion Black learnt what you were up to, he would not be pleased.”

“Sí bueno, me chupa un huevo Orion,” James muttered.

At that, Regulus, who had just taken a sip of his tea, choked hard. He thumped himself on the chest as he gave James a slightly incredulous and very impressed look. “Oh my god.”

“What was that?” Sirius demanded. “You understood that?”

“I’ve been taking Spanish since my GCSEs,” Regulus said, and gave James a slightly lecherous grin. “I think I’d probably give my left huevo for him to hear that.”

As James threw his head back and laughed, Sirius decided he didn’t want to know what the hell James was saying. Instead he turned his attention to the stage where Remus was making his way, grinning at the crowd. He had his somewhat large ukulele on a strap hooked round his neck, and he took a seat on the stool, tipping the mic down toward him.

“Evening,” he said, and there was a small cheer from Sirius’ right, which turned out to be Lily, Marlene, and Mary. “I’m going to start out with some classics. Beatles, as it were. This is going out to one of my new favourite people. Padfoot, take heed.”

Sirius felt his entire body flush white-hot as he couldn’t help but meet Remus’ eyes. He pointedly ignored his brother, taking a long sip of his cooling tea, and held his breath.

A familiar pattern sounded from the instrument, and Remus began to sing. His voice was rough, on key but in a sort of folksy way that Sirius had never heard the Beatles performed before, but his heart spead up hard against his ribs.

“Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass they slip away across the universe…”

He felt James nudge him, and he glanced over to see his workmate’s eyebrows waggling slightly, and he blushed, looking away as Remus carried on with the song.

“Limitless undying love that shines around me like a million suns and calls me on and on across the universe…”

After that, Remus did a few more peppy songs—some of the Cure, a little Bowie, and even a Beyonce after Mary shouted from the crowd that she wanted All the Single Ladies.

Remus captured the crowd’s attention in a way Sirius could understand, because Remus had captured him in the very same way. It was beautiful, overwhelming, and desperate. Sirius could feel what little loyalty he had left to his father slipping as the minutes and songs ticked by, and by the time Remus was giving up the stage to someone else, Sirius knew that was it for him.

He was so bloody gone.

*** 

“Drink up, mate,” Remus said, sliding a Guinness in front of Sirius.

Sirius stared at the dark brew. “You’re joking. Isn’t that a bit stereotypical?”

Remus grinned so wide his teeth poked out over his bottom lip. “I’m allowed. I’m the cheeky Irish bastard here, and I say Guinness! It’s also delicious.” He took a huge gulp of his own.

Sirius, who had never bothered with pints before, eyed it suspiciously, then sipped it and coughed. “My god.”

“Insulting an Irish man’s drink is a punishable offense, you know,” Remus warned as their table laughed.

Lily nodded, tipping up her amber pint. “It’s true, you know. He made me do shots.”

“I’m not doing shots,” Sirius insisted.

“Oh please, please make him do shots,” Regulus begged from where he was, to Sirius’ dismay, tucked under James’ arm. 

Remus grinned, sliding closer to Sirius and putting one hand on his thigh. “Either get the pint down in a minute and thirty, or it’s shots for you.”

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned. He took another sip and coughed again. Looking round at everyone’s face, he sighed and began to drink. And drink.

And drink.

But he couldn’t do it.

Remus ripped the pint away right on the minute and thirty mark, and finished it off himself with a loud ahhhh! and then signalled for the server. “Shots, please. Tequila?”

“Fuck no,” Lily said. “You remember what happened last time.”

“Fine. Rum, then. Something fruity for our posh little English boy. Coconut.”

Everyone chuckled and Sirius flushed, humiliated and also reeling from the fact that Remus was still holding his thigh. The Guinness was going to his head already, and he was terrified of what might come out if he did have the shots. But Reg was egging them on and suddenly a shot glass was passed round to everyone at the table.

“All for one, and one for all,” Remus said, taking his. “You suffer, we all suffer. Bear that in mind.”

Sirius bit his lip, then lifted the shot glass to his lips and they all took it down. And there was a collective gag round the table.

“What the fuck, mate?” Mary demanded. “What the fuck am I drinking?”

“Dunno,” Remus said with a grimace. “I think I should be punished.”

“Or,” James said, leaning into Reg a bit more, “every person to their own drink.”

“Hear hear,” Mary replied. “But I’m out after this. I promised Petey I’d bring him some curry on the way.”

“Why didn’t he come out?” Sirius asked.

“He’s got SPD,” Mary said, and when Sirius frowned, she clarified. “Sensory processing disorder. Makes noises and for him touch sensation overwhelming. He drinks with the best of us, but at home. Come by Thursdays after work, and you’ll see.”

Sirius grinned, but shook his head. “Probably not the best idea.” His tongue felt looser and his face was growing warmer as Remus began to draw absent circles over his jeans. “I um…I…”

“Dance with me.” The voice as James’, and it carried over the table, though he was speaking to Reg who was just pissed enough to agree.

Sirius never thought he’d see the day when his uptight brother would be pulled onto a makeshift bar dancefloor and spun round and grabbed by the hips. James had put on some sort of fast-paced dance music Sirius had never heard before, but he couldn’t help his laughter at the drunken delight on his brother’s face.

His attention was brought back to the table though, as Remus began to increase the pressure on Sirius’ leg. In a half-panic, he jolted, banging his knee on the table. “I er…toilet. Need the erm. Toilet.”

Remus gave him a funny smile, but shifted over so he could get up. The alcohol had hit him decently hard, and he felt a bit wobbly as he found the loo, and locked the door behind him. It was a bit dodgy, the smell not entirely pleasant, but after emptying his bladder he felt a bit better, though not clear-headed.

When he closed his eyes, his mind flickered between watching his brother dancing with James, a smile on his face like Sirius had never seen, and the Irish man at the table who seemed to have no problem putting his hands all over Sirius.

And he wanted it, there was no denying that. But he could not let himself get involved. Doing that meant he would have to come clean because Sirius knew how easy it would be to fall in love with Remus Lupin and Remus’ rejection would crush him.

Heading out, Sirius headed for the table, but a hand snaked out and grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him to the bar. A cool, small shot glass was pressed to his lips, and Sirius had only a moment for his eyes to focus on Remus’ smile before his lips parted and the liquor burnt its way down his throat. He choked a bit, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth as Remus laughed and ordered another.

“I cannot get this pissed,” Sirius mumbled. “I live so far.”

“Sod that, mate, we’re all coming to mine. I’m just round the corner and it’s kind of a shithole but I’ve got tea and some day-old bread for toast in the morning.”

Sirius wanted desperately to say no, but one imploring, slow blink from those amber eyes and he took the next shot.

And then the next.

The last thing he remembered was being pulled onto the makeshift dance floor somewhere near his brother, laughing, and warm lips against his neck.

*** 

Sirius woke feeling like he’d been trampled by elephants five, maybe six, times. His entire body ached, and his brain felt like it was trying to escape out through his forehead. He was profoundly aware of a few things. One, he was wearing nothing but pants and a t-shirt. Two, he was not in his bed, and the smells were entirely unfamiliar. Three, he was pretty sure he was still a little drunk. And four, there was someone’s arm wrapped tight round his middle, and a face pressed against the back of his neck.

“Feck off, m’not getting up yet,” came a voice which made Sirius go weak in the knees, and not entirely in a good way.

Turning, he peered over his shoulder at Remus whose hair was in complete disarray and face was a bit splotchy. “R-Remus?”

One amber eye poked open. “You’re really going to drag m’arse out of bed right now?” he muttered.

Sirius swallowed. “Did we…erm. Did we um…”

Remus snorted a laugh, pushing his face further into the back of Sirius’ neck. “What d’you take me for, eh?”

Sirius flushed. “I just…we’re in bed and…”

“Had a few schoops, came back here, you puked, then crawled in my bed. Seemed only polite to get you comfortable and you know…you wanted a cuddle.”

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned, then winced because he felt awful.

Remus, meanwhile, stretched and groaned. “Christ, I feel like beaten up in a bucket. You want to wander round for something to eat?”

“I might die if I try to ingest anything,” Sirius groaned. “Is my brother here?”

“Think I saw him facing James in the loo just before I came in here,” Remus said, and from his grin Sirius didn’t have to ask what that meant.

“Fuck. I told him to stay away from James.”

Remus blinked. “Why’s that? You fancy him?”

Sirius almost choked. “God no I…no. Just…didn’t want him getting involved where I work.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, he seems alright and James is a good guy. Trust me.” Remus groaned, then sat up and winced. “Come on, fried food’s the only cure. Up, out of my bed.”

Sirius grumbled, but allowed Remus to ease him up, and with stumbled motions, they found their clothes and ventured out into the lounge but there was no one there. Being that Sirius had been completely pissed the night before, he had no memory of the place, but it was nice. Cosy. Nowhere near the comfortable amenities of his own, but there was something about it he truly loved. Something that actually felt like home rather than a place he had to be to avoid the prying eyes of his family.

Sirius scratched at his messy hair and padded after Remus who called him into the kitchen. “Coffee? Seems a bit like a coffee morning.”

Sirius grimaced. “I actually hate coffee.”

“And you make it for a living? Aye, ballix, you don’t like coffee!”

Sirius shrugged. “Well…I don’t. I don’t have to like it to make it, do I?”

“Fucking mad,” Remus muttered, but he pulled tea down from the cabinet and banged it in front of him. “You’ll regret it later, mate.”

Sirius shrugged, and muttered a thanks when Remus flicked on the kettle, and before long he had an over-brewed mug of black tea and a stack of toast he wasn’t sure about eating. After a few bites, and a couple of pills tipped into his hand from Remus, he started to feel vaguely more human.

“Where do you think everyone went?”

Leaning on the counter, Remus shrugged one shoulder and spoke through a mouthful of toast. “Fuck if I know. Probably to open up shop. Which I was supposed to be in, but I think there’s enough stock for the morning rush.”

Sirius’ eyes went wide. “Fuck. Fuck, I was on opening shift!”

Remus chuckled and shook his head. “Relax. Jamie knew how steamin’ you were. He’s got you covered. Always does.”

Sirius gave him a long, slow look, then laughed. “You know, I think I only understand about seventy percent of the words that come out of your mouth.”

“Aye feck off,” he said with a grin. “You’ll get used to me.”

Sirius licked his lips, knowing that likely, he wouldn’t. But god how he wanted to. “I should try to make it in though.”

Remus nodded, then got up from the counter and came round, grabbing Sirius by the front of the shirt and pulled him in. “I fancy you.”

Sirius blinked, then let out a cough. “I…well. You just go all in don’t you?”

“I told you several times last night, you just don’t remember,” Remus said with a slightly cheeky grin. His hands crept up to Sirius’ shoulders and squeezed. “You asked for more time, and I’m gonna give it to you. But just wanted to make my intentions clear. Sober ones.”

Sirius licked his lips. “It’s only that…I just…” He let out a breath and bowed his head, letting it collide against Remus’. “I fancy you too.”

Remus laughed. “So long as we’re on the same page then, eh. Go on, feck aff and get to work. I’ll see you shortly, I’m sure.”

*** 

The week went by a bit awkward, as James and Regulus were clearly sleeping together, and Sirius was on edge about his cover being blown. But as he spent time with Remus, and with James, and with Lily and Marlene, with Dori, with Peter and Mary—he realised there was so much more life there.

So much more to give.

He spent weekends and his days off either hanging round the café or at one of their houses. He spent free time flirting with Remus, hanging out at his little flat, drinking tea Remus gave him endless amounts of shit for, listening to private concerts, and—if he was being honest—falling in love. He was.

He was irrevocably falling in love.

With all of them, in a way.

Regulus was around more now that he and James were dating, although it was casual, but Regulus cornered Sirius one evening. “Teddy.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Reggie.”

“You need to tell them. You’re bloody-well happy here and you need to tell our father to sod off, and confess who you are and they’ll understand.”

Sirius felt his gut clench because his four weeks were nearly up, and he hadn’t got in touch with his father once since the initial call. Orion had rung a few times, but Sirius promptly ignored every single one, and hoped for the best. And it had just gone on too long. “They’ll hate me. Reg I… I can’t.”

“I want to fucking tell my boyfriend my own last name,” Regulus all-but shouted. “Sirius…please.”

Swallowing, Sirius hung his head. “Fine. You know what I…fine. I will.”

Regulus’ shoulders slumped and he reached out, grabbing his brother by the wrist. “It’ll be alright, you know.”

Sirius went into work that afternoon, and was put on the front counter. It was strangely dead, and Lily decided to pass the time by nicking Remus’ food colouring pots and painting a multi-coloured moustache and beard on Sirius’ face.

“See there. You can get facial hair,” she said.

Sirius snorted. “Sod off, I can grow it if I want to. I just don’t.”

Lily gave his cheek a firm pat. “The hell you can. This baby face…”

Sirius dove at her with a laugh, and she shrieked, flailing the brush at him and splattering him with colours. This carried on until Lily froze, and Sirius turned his head. His entire body went stiff, his veins like ice, as he looked up into the disapproving face of his father.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

“Mr Black,” Lily said, quickly straightening. “We didn’t know to expect you.”

Orion spared her a glance before his eyes fixed on his son. Before he spoke, James and Remus both came in from the kitchen, and they went stiff in the doorway.

“Mr Black,” James said in a hurry. “You of course know Minerva’s been in hospital for the last month and…”

“I’m not here about her,” Orion said, not looking away from Sirius. “I’m here to find out why my son has been dodging my calls. But I can see he’s done exactly as I have asked him not to do. Fraternising. Failing me. I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“Father…”

Sirius could feel the eyes of the others boring holes into him. 

“Spare me, Sirius. I should have listened to my gut when it told me you would continue to be nothing but a failure. Useless,” he spat, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Just then, the door to the café swung open, and Regulus came tearing in. He skid to a halt upon seeing his father, and went paler than usual. “Sirius,” he whispered.

Orion looked over his shoulder, then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I should have suspected. He was a good boy until you,” he spat at Sirius, “came along. He was too soft, though. Both of you…pathetic.”

“Hey,” James said, stepping up. “I’ve no idea what’s going on here but that’s enough.”

Orion blinked, then frowned. “And who are you?”

“The manager,” James said, glancing between Sirius and Regulus. “And with all due respect…”

“Who hired you?” Orion snapped. “Are you English?”

James’ face went hard. “Listen here…”

“No. I ask my son to do one simple task, to find out why this café has done nothing but fail me, and he treats this job like he treats everything—no respect. Like his own, personal pocketbook. You can consider your job terminated,” he said, waving his hand at James, “and…”

“No!” Sirius said slamming his fist on the counter. “No. You’re a dying, bitter old bigot. You can’t come in here understanding nothing about how this place is run and sack the person keeping this place afloat! I will not let you.”

“You have no power,” Orion said. “Go back to your flat. I’ll meet you there to discuss your…future.” He turned to Regulus. “Join us if you will.”

“Thank you, but I’ll stay out of this one,” Regulus said, then spun on his heel and left.

Sirius and Orion stared at each other, and just as Sirius took a step toward the end of the counter, a hand closed round his arm. In the back of his mind, he desperately hoped it was Remus, but when he turned, the Irish man had gone, and James was looking at him.

“Don’t. Teddy…or…Sirius? Whatever. Don’t go. I don’t care if he sacks me. I don’t.”

“I do. I’m not going to let my fuck-up cost you your job. I…he asked me to come here under cover and see why it wasn’t making any money. So I did. But I didn’t…” His eyes flickered to the cabinet where he knew the charity funds were kept. “I didn’t tell him anything, I swear,” he muttered under his breath.

James gave a sharp nod and then released him. “Stay.”

“He owns this place,” Sirius replied.

“Too right I do,” Orion hissed.

“And my flat,” Sirius said. “And my life. I have nothing without him.”

James’ eyes, narrowed and furious, moved from Sirius to Orion, then back again. “You can stay with me. No, I don’t care,” James said when Sirius tried to protest. “Fuck him. Don’t go.”

But Sirius knew he had no choice. He had to, at the very least, take a stand. Bowing his head, he reached out and squeezed James’ shoulder. “Thanks, Prongs. But I’ll be alright.”

With that, he moved to the door but as he opened it he heard James call out, “Nothing changed! If you need me, you know where to find me!”

*** 

It was pissing rain. Sirius was frozen and soaked with a rucksack full of what he could grab, twenty quid in his pocket, his mobile, and only one boot. He stared up at the window to James’ flat and felt hot with shame. He didn’t deserve the comfort, but he had no choice.

Sirius and Orion had a screaming row, and when he refused to give up information on the café, Orion said the flat was forfeit and Sirius was out. So he left. He grabbed what little was properly his, and left. He wandered until it had begun to rain, and knowing he wouldn’t last a single night on the streets, he ended up here.

More than anything he wanted Remus, but he knew the Irish man had turned away from him. And with good reason.

Sirius had done nothing but lie.

With a sigh, he walked over and pushed the buzzer. No one called down for him, but the door clicked open, and Sirius found himself sloshing his way up the stairs. When he got to James’ landing, the door was cracked, and there were several towels and a fresh shirt and pair of jogging bottoms waiting for him in James’ hands.

Sat on the sofa was Reg, with a cup of tea and a sombre expression.

“Go change,” James said. “Regulus explained everything.”

Sirius bowed his head, but allowed James to shove him into the bathroom where he shucked his soaked clothes for the fresh, dry ones. He towelled off, changed, and came back out in cold, bare feet, and soggy locks.

James had a cup of tea waiting, and a warm duvet on the opposite side of the sofa from where Regulus was sat.

“Did he hurt you?” James asked.

Sirius shook his head. “Just cut me off.”

“Pelotudo!” James snarled. “He had no right to take your flat away.”

Sirius shrugged. “He was right, you know. Not like I earnt anything in it. I was…useless.”

James opened his mouth to retort, but Regulus silenced him with a gentle hand. “It’s complicated,” he said softly, and Sirius quietly thanked him. “But Sirius, you can stay here. Really.”

James scratched the back of his head and offered a sheepish smile. “The flat belongs to my parents, I don’t pay for anything in it. So please. Please,” he stressed when Sirius hesitated. “We’ll find new jobs and…”

“He really sacked you?” Sirius asked.

James shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“Are you alright?” Sirius stressed.

James laughed. “Acá andamos. Really, we’ll get by. You and me.”

Sirius nodded, then sipped his tea for a while. “Remus. He hates me, eh?”

“He was confused,” James said quietly. “Maybe a little hurt. Reg came back and explained everything. Everything.”

Sirius sighed. “I should have told you. I just…you were all so…and I just…” His throat went tight, preventing him from finishing his sentence, and he cleared his throat. “I’d never had anyone before. Who gave a shit about me besides Reg and I was afraid.”

“You didn’t betray us,” James insisted. “We still have the charity money. Lily’s in charge now, and she’s not changing a thing. We’re fine, I promise.”

Sirius nodded. “Alright,” he said softly. “And I swear I’ll get a job and contribute and…”

“I know you will,” James said. “Now off to bed. Take a few days, okay? We’ll figure it out later.”

Sirius wanted to protest, but his entire body ached and all he wanted was a soft place to lay his head. He let James lead him to the second bedroom, and collapsing on the small bed, he buried his face in the pillow. He didn’t cry, but he supposed he didn’t need to. His father had wrung him out and left him shattered and alone in the street.

But what Orion didn’t realise is Sirius wasn’t alone. And never would be again.

*** 

Waking to the smell of something hot and baked, and the feeling of pressure on the bed near his thighs, Sirius cracked open and eye and almost let out a shout when he saw a face hovering near his.

“Wakey wakey.”

Sirius scrambled back. “R-Remus?”

“Rumour has it you’ve a barmier name than I do. Sirius.”

Feeling his cheeks go hot, Sirius sat up and ran his hand through his messy locks. “Yeah. I…fuck. Remus I am so sorry.”

Remus laughed, cuffing him on the shoulder before shoving a plate full of fresh croissants at him. “Nicked these from the morning’s batch. Thought you could use some comfort food.”

Sirius wanted to refuse them, but they smelt delicious and they were warm and perfect. Taking a bite, he groaned loudly. “Oh my god, you are amazing.”

“Of course I am.” Remus ran a hand down his soft belly and winked. “Never trust a skinny chef, eh? Only kitchen rule you should follow.”

Sirius couldn’t help his laugh as he shifted over to make room for Remus to slide up. “I really am sorry. So fucking sorry I lied.”

Remus looked at him, then drew the backs of his knuckles down Sirius’ cheek. “I ought to be well pissed off with you, but I fancy you so much and really…you didn’t lie much. Also your da’s a right cunt.”

Sirius barked a startled laugh. “Yeah, a bit.”

“James said you’re staying here, which good. Fuck that guy.”

“I got James sacked,” Sirius muttered.

“I told ya he’s got it sorted. Rich as hell, that wanker. Posh as you are, but doesn’t act like it. And we’re getting you trained up just like him. So don’t get your head twisted up about it, okay? You got us.”

Sirius leant his head to the side, resting it on Remus’ shoulder. “I do, don’t I?”

Remus reached over, cupping his chin and turned Sirius face. “Yeah, ya fuckin’ do. So no more of your gobshite, alright?”

Sirius laughed. “I think I might be ready for a kiss now?”

“Yeah? After all this bloody time?”

Instead of answering, Sirius pushed his face forward, and their lips collided.

*** 

**Epilogue**

Mouth stuffed full of chocolate pasty, Sirius rushed through the gallery, hoping none had smeared on his face. He was starving, having skipped both breakfast and lunch, and there was no hope of tea now that the showing was about to begin and he was going to have all eyes on him.

Him and his art.

His knees were quaking, and just before he reached the doors, a hand shot out from behind the massive curtains, and pulled him into the fabric. Letting out a small cry, the noise was enveloped in a warm mouth, muffled by an insistent tongue.

“Fuck,” Remus whispered. “You taste of chocolate.”

“I was just eating one of your pasties,” Sirius muttered, fisting his hand in the front of Remus’ shirt. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a good luck snog and grope,” Remus said, his hand palming the front of Sirius’ trousers.

“Don’t get me hard!” Sirius hissed. “I have to go talk to these people.”

“Best tuck it then, eh?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Fucking prat. You are going to pay for that later.”

“Certainly hope so, love. Now go, sell a million quid worth of paintings and take me somewhere nice, alright?”

Sirius cupped Remus’ cheeks, kissing him softly. “That’s the plan. Well, the plan is to hitch along on James and Reggie’s honeymoon so we can ruin it for them, but I also plan to woo you.”

“You’re a right bastard, aren’t you?” Remus asked.

“And you have to go back to our café and get to work before Lily sets the place on fire. She’s rowing with Marls.”

“Fuck me,” Remus said, then kissed him once more. “Good luck, babes.”

Sirius smacked Remus’ arse as he scurried off, then turned and took a breath. How everything had fallen into place—his inheritance from a dead uncle, his father dying and the cafés being sold off, and Sirius and James pooling together to open up their own place, a café and gallery where Remus could bake and Sirius could paint—it was a dream.

One he wasn’t sure he was going to wake up from.

But as his hand touched the door handle, prepared to receive his applause for his first major showing, he knew this was it. This was his forever. And he was perfectly alright with it.


End file.
